THE GATES OF SLUMBER

For those who like to doom, THE GATES OF SLUMBER have always been a heavyweight proposition. Founder, guitarist and frontman Karl Simon infused his band's sound with so much authentic grit and righteous, SABBATH-worshipping ambition that albums like "Suffer No Guilt" (2006) and "Hymns of Blood and Thunder" (2009) basically sold themselves. Never self-conscious about the veracity of their low-end rumble, THE GATES OF SLUMBER have gracefully straddled the divide between the brutish and the progressive. Since they split in 2013, the subsequent, untimely deaths of former members Jason McCash, J. Clyde Paradis and Bob Fouts conspired to make it seem increasingly unlikely that Simon would ever return under the same name, but the call of doom's demon bell drew him back into the fold in 2019. With a new lineup that proudly and vigorously upholds the principles laid down by earlier incarnations, THE GATES OF SLUMBER have reawakened, and this self-titled six-tracker is the unexpected but very welcome result.

Rarely inclined to mess around, Indiana's finest pick up precisely where they left off. "Embrace the Lie" is classic, black-hearted doom metal that requires no explanation, beyond an ecstatic reaction to Karl Simon's riffs and the acknowledgement that THE GATES OF SLUMBER are profoundly, inescapably heavy in the truest sense. Heavy like SABBATH. Heavy like PENTAGRAM. Heavy, because heaviness is in the riffs, and not just the equipment used to make them loud enough to rattle the ribcage. Bongs will be fired up to this record, because the riffs demand it. One track in, and it's already great to have this band back.

Next, "We Are Perdition" is another slab of none-more-true doom, underscored by skull-shattering bass and bloated with vintage riffs of a distinctly morbid hue. But it is a testament to Simon's creativity and resolve that "The Gates Of Slumber" is both a throwback to an earlier time and a purposeful stride into darker territory. After "Full Moon Fever"'s hallucinatory heavy metal, which cheerfully fulfills a "Children Of The Grave" role on this album, and "At Dawn"'s furrowed-brow bludgeon leads to "The Fog", which is a masterclass in menace, delivered at a crucifying snail's pace. Album closer, "The Plague", is a twisted paean to a disease-ridden death, with eerie harmonies and some exhilarating, knuckleheaded riffs that deserve to bring joy to the irrevocably morbid, old-school doom contingent.

There is no mistaking the sound of the real deal resoundingly back to life and keeping it true out of respect for the dead. New members Chuck Brown (drums) and Steve Janiak (bass) acquit themselves brilliantly throughout. Simon is plainly in his element, back where he belongs and doing what he does best. Proper doom done properly. Impossible to argue with, really.